


chosen

by bellaaanovak



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, idk how to tag this it's v short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 17:31:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellaaanovak/pseuds/bellaaanovak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Got a prompt to write a quick one shot of Sam, Dean, and Castiel fighting over the reader in any way, and I chose this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	chosen

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't think of a title besides this. It sounds very dramatic, but it's really not.

“Does anybody want to tell me what the _hell_ is going on?” You shout angrily at the three men bickering and murmuring in your tiny apartment’s living room.

 

They just burst in, not five minutes ago, moaning about some ghost and the need to protect you. Ghosts aren’t real, and for all you know, they could be a clan of serial rapists or something.

 

“Listen, sweetheart, I already tried to tell you what was going on,” The tan one with the dead eyes and a jawline so sharp it could kill a man said. You interrupted.

“Don’t call me sweetheart, you prick. I asked nicely, didn’t I?”

“I’m not really sure what your definition of _nice_ is, but I’m sure that wasn’t nice. Unless the definition changed?” The shortest one with the five o’clock shadow muttered the last part to both of the others as the tallest one snickered. You didn’t want to know what the dude in the _trench coat’s_ deal was.

 

“Okay, sorry. What’s your name?” Jawline asked. You tell him. “Alright, then. Your great uncle’s dyin’ wish was basically to kill all the people who turned on him while he was alive, and their children. That includes you.”

 

You pursed your lips. Your mother’s recent death was completely out of the ordinary, and even though you hardly spoke to him, getting the call about your father was unsettling as well. “Well, wasn’t he some psycho or something?” The tallest one spoke up. He was cute, and had a kind but sad smile slapped across his face.

 

“He kidnapped and tortured women for two years until your great grandparents found out, who turned him in to the authorities. When he was executed, his last words were, uh,” He pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it, reading directly from it. “’I’ll kill every last one of ya, you, your kin, your kin’s kin. I’ll kill ‘em all.’”

 

You felt a chill up your spine. That was extremely unsettling to hear.

 

“So now what? You’re saying I’m next on the line?”

“Yes,” Trench Coat flat lined. “That is true.”

“You guys are insane.”

“Are we? Your parents were killed the same way your uncle’s victims were. You been sensin’ any cold spots? Lights flickering? Radio and TV frequencies bouncin’ around?” Jawline growled. He got all in your face and you were torn between smacking him and pressing your lips to those gorgeous ones. What were you saying?

“How do you know that?”

“It’s our _job_ to know that, lady.” He snapped back before walking away.

 

“The reason we’re here is to protect you.” The tall one, who kind of resembled a puppy, said gently. You liked him best.

“From who? _Casper_? I don’t understand how it takes three guys to kill one little ghost.” You reply.

 

“It won’t. I’m gonna stay here and keep an eye on you while these two go dig up your great uncle’s corpse, salt it, and burn it.” You choke on air as Jawline gestures to Puppy Eyes and Trench Coat. You couldn’t believe this was happening to you. Right now, you’d probably take the ghost.

 

“Why do you get to stay?” Puppy Eyes groaned.

“She’s got a mouth on her, but she’s cute as hell. Dibs, man.”

“I think I should stay. It would… be best.”

“What if I wanna stay?”

“Stop being so immature, Sam.”

“Dude, she clearly hates you.”

 

You clear your throat to get the attention of the men in an attempt to lower the ridiculous amount of testosterone in the room. They look to you, and you balance your weight on one leg, studying the three of them. They were all beautiful, although they were fighting over you like a chew toy. You couldn’t tell if it was demeaning or a turn on.

 

“Can I at least know your names?” You ask with a smile. Jawline gestures.

“I’m Dean, this is my brother, Sam, and that’s Cas. Okay? One of us has to stay here and keep an eye on you while the grave gets dug. That’s the only way to get rid of the spirit.”

 

You close your eyes, trying to force the image of a grave being dug and a skull being burned out of your mind.

 

“Alright, well, what if I pick who gets to stay with me?”

 

The three men looked at you with a tilt of the head and a smile, Dean standing up straight and proud. You waved him off. “You said I had a mouth on me. You are definitely not welcome here.” You shrugged and squinted at the short one, Cas, and his instant stare at Dean. “Geeze, you either, scruffy. Sam’s the tallest, he should stay.”

 

Sam blushed and grinned at Cas and Dean as they walked out the door.

 

It was a good thing you chose him to stay, because he was sweet, not at all rude, and a hell of a kisser, too.

 

Plus, it was worth the look on his brother’s face when they came back.


End file.
